


On The Way Home

by carpfish



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Humor, No Spoilers, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24178624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpfish/pseuds/carpfish
Summary: Tenma and Masumi's Great Supermarket Shopping Adventure, featuring Tenma's amazing sense of direction, Masumi's resting bitch face, Veludo Way cryptids, fabric softener flash sales, and a pair of latchkey kids finding their way home.
Comments: 19
Kudos: 97





	On The Way Home

**Author's Note:**

> A super super super late Secret Santa (yes, you read that right) gift for TAMAneko! Thank you for your patience!
> 
> Big shout out to Tigerine for writing help as always, and Headlong for a fantastic beta job! 
> 
> Fic set in around late-Act 1, so Masumi and Tenma have been living together in the dorms for a while, but aren't too familiar with one another. Just some good clean fun with no-spoilers genfic.

“You’re not the director,” Masumi grumbles, as soon as he sees Tenma step through the door with a pair of empty shopping bags. His expression immediately drops from one of hopeful adoration to bored disgust. For an actor, Masumi’s not very good at hiding his emotions. While it’s completely  _ true  _ that Sumeragi Tenma, prodigious child actor turned theatrical boy wonder, isn’t the bubbly brunette director of Mankai Company, the  _ way _ that Masumi says it makes it sound like the world’s most damning condemnation. It makes Tenma think of reality TV shows where unsuspecting guests get surprised by famous actors during everyday errands. No shade on the director, but he’s pretty sure that most people would think of this as an upgrade rather than some kind of punishment. But, on immediate reflection, Mankai Company is not “most people”, nor is Masumi particularly “normal”. 

_ Anyone but _ Masumi would be more likely to welcome Tenma’s presence on a shopping errand: Omi would appreciate the extra manpower and secretly purge carrots from the next few days’ menu. Tenma and Tasuku could trade acting tips and pick out new protein powders on the way to and back. Heck, even Yuki would be grateful for Tenma’s “dumb muscles” to help carry his bags at the very least. But to Usui Masumi, there are only two types of people in the world: The Director, and Not The Director, and having to spend time with the latter is nothing but the cruelest of misery.

Normally, Tenma would be offended at being so blatantly snubbed. But this is Masumi, and Tenma has been part of Mankai long enough that he knows better than to take it personally. As if getting into arguments with Yuki all the time over torn seams and petty insults wasn’t exhausting enough, Tenma has better things to do than lose his temper every time Masumi ignores him to stare at the director off in the distance. And even if Tenma did, he’d probably just die mad. It’s not like Masumi intends on changing his behavior any time soon. 

“Yeah, I’m not the director,” Tenma sighs, with the resignation of every Mankai member who has ever encountered Masumi’s director-based derision, and drops an empty bag on top of Masumi’s head. “But something came up for her, so I’m the one going shopping with you today instead. Deal with it.” 

_ You should be grateful for my help _ , Tenma wants to add, even as Masumi glares at him while picking the bag off his head. Today’s shopping list is a long one: a change of lightbulbs for the first floor practice room, refills of fabric softener in two different scents since Juza and Banri refuse to have their clothes smell the same, three more economy packs of budget marshmallows after Hisoka had unexpectedly burnt through Homare’s emergency stock, ingredients for tonight’s dinner of curry croquettes (a compromise between Omi and the director), an eight-pack of Ded Bull for Tsuzuru’s latest scriptwriting sprint…. Clearly more than any single person could comfortably haul from the supermarket on their own. So Tenma had graciously given up one of his rare days off to help with the errand run, purely out of the goodness of his heart. And this is the thanks he gets.  _ The things I do for Mankai, _ Tenma thinks, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. It’s proof of his growth as a leader that he knows when to set his own ego aside for the good of the troupe. Either that, or he knows better than to try and butt heads with someone as single-minded as Masumi. 

Tenma’s long-suffering internal monologue is interrupted by a rough, impatient cough. Tenma looks up to see Masumi, high-tops laced up, headphones in his hands, all ready to go as he pins Tenma down with an annoyed glare. 

“Hurry up. I’m gonna leave without you.”

Before Tenma can retort about how it takes time to lace up his Air Mordins, Masumi has donned his signature noise-canceling headphones, turned up whatever prog-classic-something rock it is he listens to, and is deaf to the world as he strides out the door with zero consideration for Tenma and his shoes.  _ Jerk, _ Tenma grouses, struggling to loop bunny ears with his laces as quickly as he can. It’s not like Tenma couldn’t make it to the supermarket fine all on his own, but would it kill the guy to adjust to someone else’s pace for two seconds? Besides, Masumi’s the one holding the grocery list.

Once he’s ready to go, Tenma bolts out the door after Masumi, and chases him down two blocks before he realizes that he doesn’t actually know which direction Masumi went. But if he keeps heading down this path, he should reach the supermarket… right? Tenma should be familiar with the area around Mankai by now, but with Igawa chauffeuring him from school to dorm most days, Tenma still hasn’t quite gotten his bearings on the neighborhood. But it’s not  _ Tenma’s  _ fault that Veludo Way is always so full of tourists and ever-changing posters and decorations and distracting street acts. How’s Tenma supposed to have a perfect mental map of such a disorienting neighborhood?

Tenma begins to reach for his phone, then shakes his head and pulls his hand away. He’s heard Kazunari complain about Masumi’s refusal to respond to texts enough times that he knows even if he did LIME the other boy, it isn’t likely to do any good. He could call his manager Igawa for a pickup, or ask anyone else in Mankai for directions, but how pathetic would that be? Tenma cringes, already imagining Yuki and Banri’s relentless ridicule if they ever found out that he managed to get lost on such a simple errand to the neighborhood market. They’d never let him live it down. Last time he’d needed Juza to show him the way home from school, Yuki had threatened to plant a GPS tracker on him while he was asleep. Tenma’s ears burn with embarrassment at the memory. No, there is absolutely  _ no  _ way he can ask for help on this, his pride would never survive it. Instead, Tenma summons all his memories of Igawa’s advice to him the last time he’d gotten lost. Looking for landmarks should help, right? 

“Last time we went to the supermarket, we passed by an ad for the new Rouken Tanbu musical…” 

That had been almost two weeks ago, but the ad campaign shouldn’t have ended so soon, right? All Tenma has to do is find the poster for the historical sword-boy themed production, and he’s sure to be on the right track towards the supermarket. Immediately he scans the streets before him for the brightly-colored poster of flamboyantly-costumed actors, but unfortunately, there’s about twenty posters within view that immediately fit that description. Tenma witlessly follows one poster after another, inspecting each one along the trail in search of Rouken Tanbu but to no avail. There’s advertisements for a Shakespeare adaptation set at a figure skating tournament, an American high school themed musical production, promotions for a virtual idol’s holographic concert, and a historical play that almost fools Tenma for a second until he realizes that all the characters are sword  _ girls _ instead of boys. 

At long last, Tenma finds a poster in the window of a stageplay-themed cafe emblazoned with the distinctive title of “Rouken Tanbu”. Relieved by the end of his search, Tenma surveys his surroundings, expecting to see the supermarket at any moment. And it’s… nowhere to be found. Instead, he realizes that he’s stranded in a corner of Veludo Way that he doesn’t recognize. Are there even theaters on this street? Tenma frantically spins about, trying to spot a single familiar building, only to find none. Is he even in Veludo Way anymore? He hasn’t walked that far, has he?

Tenma immediately whips back to inspect the Rouken Tanbu poster again. He’d searched for a landmark, how could it have led him astray? Only then does he notice the finely-printed notice pinned right under the poster.

_ Make sure to also check out for Rouken Tanbu posters at these other sites in our Veludo Way Rouken Tanbu collaboration stamp rally... _

Tenma’s heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach in despair at the inscrutable minimap of  _ five _ more Veludo Way locations outfitted with Rouken Tanbu posters. And not one of them is the supermarket. How’s he supposed to know which one was the landmark he saw from last time? Just as he’s about to give up hope, he hears a loud snapping sound coming from behind him, a sound that he’s been sensitized to and trained to hear from miles away. A sound that chills him to the very core. 

It’s the sound of a phone camera. 

Tenma whips around immediately, only to find his deepest fears realized. A university-aged girl in pigtails stands behind him, bracelet-festooned arm raised high to point her phone at him. “Oh my god, it really  _ is  _ Sumeragi Tenma? Is this for real?” Her voice is loud enough to alert several other bystanders of Tenma’s presence and before long, several more phones join the fray as a small crowd forms around him. 

Pigtail girl immediately gets right up in Tenma’s personal space, shoving a brightly colored notepad and a pom-pom pen into his hands. “Oh my god, my mom  _ loves _ your show! The one about the lip syncing idol who wants to become a professional viola player, right? She watches it  _ every _ morning! You’ve gotta give me an autograph to take home to her, please!” 

More out of reflex than any real desire, Tenma breaks into the most starworthy grin he can muster as he pretends to charmingly run his fingers through his hair. He’d been in such a rush to go after Masumi that he’d forgotten to wear his sunglasses. Tenma winces internally, but now that he’s been recognized, there’s nothing he can do but play it cool, hand out some fanservice, and eat up the attention. This is just part and parcel of being astoundingly famous and talented, after all. But more importantly, nobody can know why or how he got here, otherwise he can just imagine the tabloid headlines: _Nation’s Most Promising Starlet_ _found hopelessly stranded 10 minutes from home! Will he get lost on his way to the Red Carpet next?_

It takes ten minutes of autographs, selfies, and handshakes before Tenma is able to gradually extract himself from the gaggle of fans. Turns out his morning romance dramas are more popular with the young crowd’s  _ parents _ than the young crowd itself, but that’s to be expected with the time slot. Viewership is viewership, and Tenma won’t be taking a single fan for granted on his journey to the top, no matter their age. In fact, pigtail girl had left him with a rather sweet story about how she and her mother bonded over watching his shows together, which by itself is well worth the detour and has him feeling great. But as he wanders vaguely off into some arbitrary direction he’d chosen after saying goodbye to the fans, Tenma realizes that in retrospect, he probably should have asked for directions to the supermarket- or maybe for directions back to the dorm. Who knows, Masumi might be done and on his way back already. 

Preoccupied with looking confident as he wanders off in an unknown direction, Tenma doesn’t realize that he’s being followed. It isn’t until he’s strayed near a shady back alleyway that he notices the lingering fans still tailing him. More? Tenma wonders, beleaguered, before he decides that he should be flattered instead. He can manage one or two more signatures at least. As he turns to face the fans, Tenma’s painstakingly-trained PR instincts immediately wipe away any traces of exhaustion, instead flashing them with another poster-worthy smile. 

“Hello, can I help y-” 

Tenma’s friendly, scripted opening remark is immediately cut off by a small microphone being shoved in his face. “Sumeragi Tenma! This is Aki Ako, here with STREET ACT! web news, scouring the streets of Veludo!” 

Tenma is suddenly blinded by a volley of point-blank camera flashes, and before he has the chance to respond, the reporter has already turned around to face her second camera operator, who is armed and recording. 

“We’re here today with our segment ‘Daily Ad-lib’, where we hold impromptu interviews with actors found on the streets of Veludo Way!” The reporter rattles out her introduction at a machine-gun pace, barely leaving a spare moment to breathe between lines, let alone for Tenma to interject. 

“For those not familiar with this face- and you should be, it’s been on train station ads, the Veludo Scramble big screen, even the cover of  _ Anan  _ magazine!- this is Sumeragi Tenma, yes, son of  _ that  _ famous Sumeragi actor couple that you’re thinking of, young star of romance dramas like  _ Voila Viola! My Musical Love _ and  _ Blue Summer Ride  _ but also more recently making a name for himself as member and leader of Mankai Company’s Summer Troupe-”

These rapid-fire words leave Tenma’s head as soon as they enter them, too quick and vaguely familiar for him to even register amidst the confusion rattling in his brain.  _ Igawa would not be happy about this _ , is all Tenma can think. Igawa would definitely not be happy with Tenma awkwardly stuttering something totally not PR-approved in an unscheduled interview with this online tabloid, but it’s not like Tenma has a choice when he’s literally backed into an alleyway with cameras trailed on him. Where would he even escape to if he tried? Last he checked, the alleyway wasn't a dead end, so he could make a run for it and see where that leads. But at this point, he's so lost that it feels like he could wander his way halfway to O-High and back before he found the path back to the dorm.

Just as Tenma tries to blearily register the reporter's words and string them together into what may or may not be a question directed at him, he feels a firm, bony grip on his shoulder. He watches the reporter's face freeze in sudden surprise, bordering on fear, her wide-eyed gaze fixed on a point behind Tenma's shoulder, and Tenma feels his soul leaving his body.

Tenma doesn’t scream. Tenma doesn’t ever scream. Instead, Tenma refuses to move a muscle, and takes a deep calming breath. And he definitely doesn’t think about the ghost story that Misumi had told him after rehearsal last week about the triangle-mouthed woman and her scar-ridden smile and how, if you meet her in a dark alley and fail to give her a sufficiently splendid triangle, then she’ll turn you into one instead- oh god, it’s early afternoon on a sunny day but Tenma is spiraling into a panic the way Muku does when he accidentally eats a strawberry that Juza had been eyeing. Tenma's death at the hands of Veludo Way's most fearsome cryptid will be caught on camera, and he'll go down in history not as a star actor but as the pathetic screaming victim whose triangle-death video went viral, and once he's gone Yuki will take over their entire room and throw his bonsai to the flames and-

Tenma steels his nerves, deciding that if he's going to die on film then he might as well die honorably, and turns around to see... Masumi, not looking very triangle-mouthed, womanly, or vaguely cryptid-like at all, and grabbing onto his shoulder with a deeply unimpressed scowl.

"What a pain. How did you get lost _this_ badly?"

To say that Masumi, for all his supposed beauty and school-wide popularity, is not the friendliest person to walk the earth is a bit like saying that Mt. Fuji isn't the smallest anthill on the Japanese archipelago. After nearly a year in the Mankai dorms, Tenma is pretty used to seeing him in all sorts of (usually director-related) states of disgruntlement and discontent. But to most passersby who are not high-school girls enamored with Masumi's good looks, the boy comes off as approachable as a cactus, and as warm as an Alaskan night in the dead of winter. Which all goes to say, as a product of his own acting prowess and inherent resting bitch face, Masumi can be very menacing when he wants to be.

The sudden appearance of an embodiment of pure, malevolent teen angst seems to have taken the reporter by surprise. Before she's able to gather the wherewithal to recognize Spring Troupe's youngest member, Masumi tightens his vise grip on Tenma's shoulder and drags him away down the alley.

"S-sorry! On troupe business right now! Thank you for your time!" Tenma stutters out, doing his best to hide his relief as Masumi drags him away from the bewildered tabloid crew. Not the most elegant escape, but Tenma appreciates it nonetheless. Now if only Masumi would stop grabbing his hand like he means to squeeze the bones to mush.

"Alright, you can let go already," Tenma huffs, shaking his hand out of Masumi's hold. "How'd you find me there anyways?"

Masumi doesn't even deem Tenma worthy of eye contact, keeping his gaze straight ahead even as he rolls his eyes. "This alley is a shortcut to the supermarket," he says, the word  _ dumbass _ all but unspoken in the condescension dripping off his words. "The director passes through here every Tuesday to get there from the dry goods store."

Before Tenma asks, then decides against asking, why Masumi knows this information, a ruckus of badly-concealed squeals erupts from their left. Right near the exit where the alley converges with a main road, a small group of girls are shooting the pair of them not-very-furtive looks as they pull out their phones. Tenma is about to painstakingly prepare himself for the afternoon’s third round of fan mobbing, when he registers the name that the girls are whispering very loudly.

"Usui-kun.... Is that Usui Masumi-kun from-"  
"I've never seen him out of uniform he looks so  _ cool- _ "  
"Oh my god, let me get a picture of him so I can brag to my friends-"

Tenma feels a brief spike of envy that these girls recognize Masumi sooner than they do TV star Sumeragi Tenma, but that fades as soon as he turns to look at Masumi's face and the immense look of annoyance that crosses the other boy's expression. Masumi clearly doesn't want to interact with these schoolmates by any means, and while Tenma is far from an introvert, he has  _ really  _ capped his daily tolerance for being surrounded by excited fans, be they Masumi's or his own. So Tenma sizes up the roughly hundred meters of distance between them and the automatic doors of the supermarket, as well as the bustling crowd of weekday shoppers inside, and makes a snap decision.

He grabs Masumi's hand, renewing the tight hold that he'd just shaken off, and hisses, "We'll lose them in the grocery store! Quickly!"

They make a sprint for it, Tenma unevenly dragging Masumi behind him like a stumbling chihuahua chasing a car, and once Tenma's inside the automatic doors, he nearly bowls over an entire display of oranges.

It takes almost an hour before Masumi and Tenma manage to fight their way out of the supermarket crowd. While the throng of grannies and housewives inside the grocery store does provide them with sufficient cover to throw off any pursuers, it also means that they have a lot of competition for the limited discounts. Navigating the aisles filled with shopping cart traffic is as perilous a puzzle as any video game that Itaru's ever bullied Tenma into playing, and more than once does Tenma have to flash his celebrity good looks to charm a middle-aged lady into distraction so Masumi can swipe the last product off the shelves.

In the end, they manage to get everything on the shopping list, although the limited stocks left after the afternoon flash sale mean that Juza and Banri are going to inevitably start a fight over who has to use the rose-scented fabric softener. But they stick close enough to budget to avoid Sakyo's wrath, and Tenma even manages to snag himself a new pair of shades on the way to the check-out. Sure, they look almost identical to a pair he already owns, and this is probably the third pair of sunglasses he's bought because he forgot to bring his disguise out, but he'll do what must be done to protect his privacy.

Tenma and Masumi make their way out of the grocery store with their reusable shopping bags loaded to the brim. Not eager to suffer another Veludo Way navigation challenge so soon, Tenma lets Masumi lead the way back towards the dorms, following closely with little fuss. 

With little else to do but trail behind Masumi like a duckling after its mother, Tenma finds himself watching the other boy- because what is an actor if not also an expert people-watcher, after all? It doesn’t seem all that helpful at first, since he sees Masumi at the dorms every day, and while it isn’t to say that Usui Masumi is  _ simple _ , his one-track focus on the director makes him a pretty quick study. Or so Tenma had always thought. 

Masumi walks with swift, long steps, with a hunched posture that Tenma had always thought was part of his “cool-kid-hands-in-pockets” schtick. But there’s also a guardedness to his body language, an inward-facing “don’t touch me” defensiveness that Tenma recognizes from watching Juza early on in their acquaintance. It doesn’t come as a shock- Masumi has always been prickly to anyone who isn’t his beloved director- but Tenma can’t help but remember something that Sakuya had shared once during a leader meeting. Something about Spring Troupe’s early troubles cooperating as a team, and Masumi-kun not being used to interacting with other people. 

It sounds weird at first. Masumi must go through regular interactions with tons of people every day, whether with teachers and classmates at school, troupemates at Mankai, or even random girls ogling him on the street like earlier. But Tenma knows how it feels to be friendly with everyone on set without having a single friend, or to go through a school year without being able to remember the names of the students sitting next to him. Masumi doesn’t experience the isolation of fame and a professional actor’s work schedule the way Tenma does, but they do share the experience of being surrounded by others without really interacting with them at all. Of unlocking the door to an empty house with nobody to welcome them home, and sitting in silence until going to sleep. 

Tenma at least had Igawa and extensive PR training to whip him into shape, and even then, as evidenced by his earlier conflicts with Summer Troupe, his social skills left something to be desired. Tenma hadn’t been around to see Spring Troupe struggle through the rehearsals for their debut play, but he wonders if Masumi suffered from the same blunders that he did. Not knowing how to temper criticism with praise, or how to tell when you’ve said too much. Tenma has always had high standards for himself, and he can tell Masumi does too, from the way he labors for the director’s affections and carries himself impeccably on stage. Maybe when you’ve been alone with yourself and your high standards for so long, you start to think that everyone else must think the same way as well. 

When Tenma had first watched  _ Romeo and Julius _ , his eyes had been drawn to Sakuya’s Romeo most of all, but Masumi’s Julius had been nothing to sniff at either. Standing on stage, Julius had been poised and passionate, drawn in by Romeo’s dreaming and ready to see all that his new friend and the world beyond Verona’s walls had to offer him. Nothing like the closed off, lonely demeanor that Masumi is giving off now. 

Just as Tenmais jerked out of this train of thought, he hears a low rumbling noise from his stomach. Weird, he’d had lunch just before leaving the dorms, and he doesn’t feel that hungry at all. The sound comes once more, and Tenma realizes that it isn’t coming from him, but in front of him. He watches Masumi subtly lay a hand on his belly as he walks, as if to soothe his empty stomach.

“Hey, are you hungry?” Tenma asks, the first thing he’s said to Masumi since they left the supermarket. 

Masumi’s pace slows marginally as he turns around to cast Tenma an irritated look. “What does it matter? Hurry up. You’re slow,” he grouses, but Tenma is persistent. 

“When was the last time you ate?” 

“Last night? I don’t know, who cares?” 

Dinner last night had been Omi’s new recipe for Hainan chicken rice, served around seven. Tenma remembers because Taichi had been begging Sakyo to let him watch a special interview of his latest idol fave on the common room TV rather than the seven o’clock news. And it’s almost three in the afternoon now, which means that Masumi hasn’t eaten in nearly twenty hours. Tenma’s fasted that long before under strenuous filming schedules, but he’s also had enough knowledge about physical health and nutrition drilled into him to know how  _ bad _ it is to do so. Honestly, it’s a wonder that Masumi’s stomach hadn’t been growling sooner.

Without further ado, Tenma strides over to Masumi, and snatches the grocery bags out of his hands before he can do anything about it. Then he starts walking off in a direction that even he can tell is decidedly not towards Mankai. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Masumi asks, hurrying after Tenma with a look sour enough to send any lurking tabloid reporters running for the hills.

“It’s not good for you to stay hungry for so long. I saw a diner over there, so we’ll be grabbing a bite to eat before we head back.” Tenma raises a handful of grocery bags, showing off his vise grip on them. “A-after all, the director would hassle me forever if she knew I let you starve while we were out together.” 

As always, “director” is the magic word when it comes to making Masumi do just about anything. So barely ten minutes later, Tenma finds himself sitting across from Masumi inside what is decidedly not a diner, but a dessert shop instead. Which isn’t the most healthy choice for breaking a twenty-hour fast, but it’s got to be better than starving. Besides, Tenma had stormed off in this direction with such conviction that turning around once he realized his mistake would have been too embarrassing. 

Their booth table is a bit crowded, with bags of groceries taking up half the seating space. The inside of the dessert parlour is covered in pink lace and framed pictures of the Eiffel Tower, so the only part of their entourage that fits in at all is the flowery bottle of rose-scented fabric softener. But Tenma’s been drawn in by Juza and Taichi drooling at this sort of shop enough times that he’s not really bothered by the decor anymore.

He’s far more bothered by the contents of his veggie crepe, one of the few non-dessert items on the menu, the filling of which happens to be absolutely chock-full of carrots. Tenma pokes at the crepe with his fork, feeling strangely guilty about the prospect of not eating the thing. It’s not like he was that hungry in the first place, or that the crepe was particularly expensive, but he still doesn’t want to let the food go to waste. 

Masumi, on the other hand, has ordered an anmitsu parfait, which Tenma had thought looked far too loaded with whipped cream, but is looking more and more delicious with every scoop of Masumi’s spoon. Tenma longingly tracks the journey of a small mound of red bean from the top of the parfait to Masumi’s mouth, and then immediately decides that he needs to snap out of it. It may not be weird to have two boys sitting in a dessert shop with half a dozen grocery bags, but it’s definitely weird to stare that hard at someone else’s food. 

“So, why didn’t you eat for so long?” Tenma asks, by way of distracting himself. “There’s plenty to eat at the dorms, and tons of restaurants around Veludo Way as well.” Honestly, Tenma can’t imagine why anyone would reject chef Omi’s exquisite home cooking, and he’s never seen Masumi raise any objections to it, aside from the fact that it’s not the director’s. 

Masumi shrugs lightly as he shovels another spoonful of parfait into his mouth. Despite his earlier nonchalance, he looks pretty hungry. “I forgot to eat. It happens, when there’s nobody to remind me.” He pauses for a moment, silently staring into his dessert, and the look on his face is almost… expectant. As if he were looking for some sort of response from Tenma. But Tenma hesitates, and the opportunity passes. “It’s fine. I didn’t miss any of the director’s cooking.” 

It’d be out-of-character for Masumi if he hadn’t tacked on that last comment about the director, but there’s something strangely genuine about the first part of what he said. As if it was something that Masumi would only admit to Tenma, specifically. 

Ah, Tenma thinks. So Masumi sees the similarities between them as well. 

“Yeah, I get that,” Tenma says, after a long, non-crepe-eating moment of deliberation. “When I was younger, Igawa used to buy takeout for me to bring home after work, and then call me later to make sure I’d eaten it.” The old memory brings a smile to his face. “Even now, he always asks me if I’ve eaten. He’s always been a real mother hen.” 

When Tenma glances up from his crepe to look at Masumi, the other boy’s already warmed up. Not by much, but his shoulders aren’t as tense, and his eyes flutter vaguely towards Tenma’s direction every now and then, which isn’t a lot but it’s more eye contact than Masumi’s given him all day, and moreover it shows he’s  _ listening _ . In fact, Masumi’s expression reminds Tenma of Yuki’s, when he’s troubled and in need of advice- still guarded, but a little bit lonely, a little bit longing. And while Masumi isn’t a member of Summer Troupe and Tenma isn’t his leader, Tenma isn’t going to ignore his plight just because of that. They’re all Mankai, after all. 

“It’s different, isn’t it? When there’s someone who cares enough to look out for you,” Tenma concludes, and there goes Masumi’s eye contact, his lips pursed just slightly as he looks away in what might be… embarrassment? “I’m sure you’d eat all day every day if the director were the one reminding you,” Tenma adds, just to bait Masumi, and a blatant metamorphosis comes over Masumi’s face as he imagines it, his cheeks flushing slightly as his eyes light up with interest.

Tenma rolls his eyes and suppresses a snort of amusement at Masumi’s unflinching predictability. The director is too busy wrangling actors all day to remind Masumi of every meal, but it seems like Masumi got something out of the hypothetical, so that’s what matters. So Tenma carries it further. “I’m pretty sure that the director would never stop nagging you if she found out how long you didn’t eat for… but she wouldn’t be the only one.” For this final line of advice, Tenma summons every ounce of cool guy character building he’s ever done, every bit of Alibaba’s brass compassion, Miike’s reluctant camraderie, and aspiring idol-slash-violist Utagawa Ken’s unflinching fanservice performance, as he feigns seniorly nonchalance to deliver the real thesis of his argument. 

“There’s plenty of people at Mankai who care about you, and they’d be happy to look out for you too, if you’d let them.”

Masumi’s spoon hovers midway between the parfait cup and his mouth as he fixes Tenma with an indecipherable stare, and says absolutely nothing in response to Tenma’s incredibly cool, leaderly advice. The lull in conversation drags on for five seconds, ten, each moment growing more painful than the last as Tenma becomes agonizingly aware of how incredibly  _ lame  _ his leaderly advice must have been, to the point that his face has got to be turning red enough to match Taichi’s hair. By the fifteen-second mark, Tenma’s ready to get up and leave Masumi and the stupid carrot crepe in this embarrassing dessert shop and find some nearby water source to dunk his face into-

When Masumi all of a sudden lets out a small snorting noise that Tenma belatedly realizes is laughter, and grabs a fork to plunge into the veggie crepe, stealing a bite to eat before Tenma can do anything about it.

“H-hey! That’s mine!” Tenma yelps, as if he’s actually the slightest bit  _ mad _ about it, but he probably still pulls it off because he’s a great actor. 

Of course, Masumi takes his complaints about as seriously as expected, rolling his eyes before taking another stab at Tenma’s crepe. “You told me to eat more,” he shoots back, even dragging the whole plate over to his side of the table, not like Tenma really tries to stop him. “Besides, you were never going to eat this in the first place. It has carrots, right?” 

Well, it’s nice that Masumi’s loosened up a bit, even if his face remains as placid as usual, but Tenma could do without the smugness. Nonetheless, he decides he’ll do the righteous thing and relinquish his veggie crepe to the starving boy, out of the kindness of his heart. Though it would be nice to get something in return.

“So do I get to eat your parfait instead?”

Masumi does that little laugh-snort again, this time much more mockingly. “No way. I don’t share indirect kisses with anyone but the director.” 

Tenma wants to say something to that. In fact, he tries to say something to that, only to be interrupted by the loud, not-at-all inconspicuous snap of a camera coming from the table across from theirs. Tenma and Masumi turn to look as one, and the trio of housewife-aged ladies sitting there blushing vividly, One of them unsuccessfully hides her phone behind her mont blanc, while her friend bashfully covers her face with her dessert menu. The third smiles sheepishly and gives a little wave, mouthing, “hello, Ken-kun.” 

Tenma is used to ignoring stares in public and in dessert shops, but it’s really hard to turn a blind eye when you’re  _ that  _ obvious. Unfortunately, with great fame comes great responsibility. Looking back towards Masumi and his food, it seems like he's making quick work of the shredded ribbons that remain of Tenma’s crepe. It’s weird to think that other people can just  _ eat carrots  _ so quickly without difficulty, but right now Tenma is grateful. 

“Hey, hurry up and finish. We should probably head back soon, or else these ingredients won’t make it in time for dinner.” 

Masumi nods lightly as he swallows up what’s left of the parfait in between bites of crepe. By the time Tenma’s gathered what grocery bags he can carry, Masumi’s already finished both dishes with a voracious speed of eating endemic to teenage boys, and wiped his mouth clean. Before Tenma’s ready, Masumi steps out of the seating booth, most likely impatient to see the director back at the dorms, and puts on his headphones again. Only, he doesn’t.

Masumi pauses, then leaves the headphones hanging around his neck. This time, it’s his turn to take half the grocery bags from Tenma’s hands, and he shoulders them like it’s nothing, turning to leave the dessert store. Once he reaches the door, he turns around and raises an unimpressed eyebrow at Tenma, who’s still fishing out the bills to pay for their food. Masumi leans rudely against the shop door and rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t leave first. Instead, he waits, and when Tenma finishes paying, he finally speaks. 

“Move, slowpoke. Don’t get lost on the way home.”  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> The Mankai dorms fabric softener deep lore is my favorite part about this fic. For the record, both Banri and Juza end up using the rose-scented one because Sakyo rations them to one watered-down bottle at a time. Thanks for reading, and leave a like for the triangle-mouthed lady!


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